UNFORGIVEN
by kamiya-chan
Summary: Outcast. Sinners. Unforgiven. Condemned in the eyes of Corite society... witness their journey into the darkness as they struggle to survive in a universe were bloodshed happened too many a time as the three unique races battle for supremacy.
1. Condemned Souls

A/N: Standard disclaimer applies. Character names were taken from real players of pRFO.

**UNFORGIVEN**

Condemned Souls

Night came to cast a pale darkness on the Novus planet with the easy grace and unhurried pace of one who was strolling in the woods to kill time. Consequentially, the daylight withdrew itself from the plains, an aurora appearing with its ever-flowing luminescence to light up the dim sky. Along with it, the pale outline of two distant satellites came into view to offset the large, bright, cratered façade of the moon Hayress, which was peeking behind a high plateau.

Hayress' borrowed luminosity washed the high, imposing towers and winding stone pathways in the heart of the Holy Alliance of Cora's territory---its headquarters, a city named Luce. The distributed shimmer created a breathtaking and serene effect that made one's heart feel content and at peace. Adding to a sense of tranquility, shadows of the tall, standing towers cast itself all over the city. It would have otherwise caused eeriness were it not for the swiftly running purple or white lights that lined the streets.

Rivers passed furiously miles underneath the beams and arched passageways, giving off the faint calming scent of fresh water and the dim roar of flowing water. Moreover, this served as the metropolis' cooling system during days when the daylight decided to get nasty and hot.

Everywhere, the colony's emblem stamped itself---to the highest towers down to the low shiny floors, on the doors of each dwelling to the elaborate citadel in the middle of the city that served as the Elders' and Council's dwelling and office, and on the Alliance's many airships to its variedly-classed denizens.

Corites, as these denizens were called, were, as of the moment, scattered sparsely in the pathways, dwellings and lounges of the sprawling metropolis. Almost deserted the city was for most of the inhabitants were equipped with their battle armors and weapons, fighting for the momentary control of the Crag mines. Despite that, the city was still bustling with stifled activity. Raucous laughter could be heard every now and then. Clinks and clanks could be heard from the artisans at work in their shops. Stockades of potions, armors, ammunition, and weapons were frequented. The portals lighted up constantly as it announced the arrival or transport of Corites to and from the Crag. Adding to that, the wounded were steadily brought in and were sent to infirmaries to be doctored back to health and full-functioning.

This city housed Cora's denizens in its walls. For centuries to count, these elfish people stayed in the city to rest and regain their strength during or in the aftermath of each battle. They talk and hangout with their comrade-in-arms, prepare for the never-ending battle in Crag, fall in love with strangers or years-old friends, have families, or even just live the days by. It was their most precious and private dominion, their secluded city, their home. These beautiful and proud people lived their lives inside like one with few problems for they believed strongly that DECEM would bring them salvation in the end. They did not fear for their precious and ancient lives for in their ornate domain; they faithfully believed they will be protected from all harm and evil. Most were joyous and felt a sense of tranquility despite the war outside. Nothing could disturb their peace. It could not be helped; when you were at home you felt peace… for there, you belonged.

Such was not the case for everyone. As was universally know, there would always be exceptions in any situation. That was reality… that was nature. Exceptions indeed their case was for not in the darkest recesses of the normal mind of an ordinary Corite would their deeds and beliefs dwell.

Up in the shadowy paths of the city, a figure stood silhouetted against the moon. The bangs of his jet-black hair ruffled loosely against the high breeze. His robes billowed freely, revealing the heavy armor of a ranked and experienced Templar. Intense, lack-luster, hazel-green eyes gazed in silence to the streets down below, his sight directed towards the fresh and heavy influx of weary, battle-worn Corites who were coming out of the rear portal, apparently from the now-finished Chip Wars in Crag.

One of the new arrivals raised his voice and shouted a declaration that broke through the low bustling noise of the city. "We have taken Crag!"

It took a while for the news to travel through the metropolis but soon reached most ears. Moments later, hoots of joy echoed through the halls in response to the news. The noise escalated to a higher intensity as self-congratulations, praises for the warriors who have staked their lives for the victory, and triumphant laughter swept through the entire populace.

"Thank you Almighty DECEM!" another voice gratefully shouted with a note of passion and relief; a statement which many seconded.

The Templar clamped his jaw as soon as the statement registered on him. "DECEM…," he uttered venomously.

With one last glance of contempt at the celebrating crowd, he turned swiftly from the scene and headed high up, no longer able to withstand the praises for DECEM he was hearing. His footsteps fell purposefully, his eyes blazing in suppressed anger as he walked the windy pathways of heights.

Silence was everywhere in the higher part of the city. It was a place most Corites did not know; more so, rarely ever go to. Only a few of the ancients were well aware of the streets and dwellings that existed up above the metropolis. Suffice it to say, it was a deserted and unknown place in Luce.

"Northenio…," a feminine voice called softly from somewhere behind him. He stopped in his tracks but did not turn to face the speaker.

"We have won the battle it seems," Northenio muttered dully. Apparently, he recognized who she was. A look of disgust crossed his face. "…It's all thanks to DECEM," he added acidly.

"Foolish," the blue-eyed blond replied with enough frostiness to make a man's blood run cold. Her untied hair, which fell below her bottom in one shiny cascade and complemented her tight-fitting garments that showed more than they covered, swayed along with her hips as she walked towards him, her gait with cat-like grace. "They are still blinded…"

He laughed bleakly. "Blinded they forever will be, it seems, Viene…"

A moment of silence passed between them with only their shallow breathing as sounds that could be heard for miles around and below. They stood unmoving, pondering on their own thoughts. Hayress' luminescence bathed them eerily, giving their profiles a jagged sense of ferocity.

Finally, Viene sighed, her eyes, like his, dull and jaded. "Best let them be… We should not care for them. We are not a part of them. They have ostracized us, us who had been enlightened. Doom will befall on them for their foolishness," she muttered with spite.

"Ostracized…," he repeated, anger burning the words as it came out.

"Yes. In their eyes, we will be damned for eternity when in reality, it is they who are damned," she added tonelessly, her blue eyes turning frosty.

With savageness, Northenio tore his robe and his upper armor along with his shirt off to expose the broad expanse of his muscled and battle-scarred back. Imprinted at the base of his neck was a symbol, scorched, it seemed, by a metal rod…

_Or by magic…_

Viene gasped at the sight of the raw and red skin. "What have they done to you?!" she asked fiercely, appalled and enraged at the inhumane deed.

"Kahn said it was to mark the damned," he replied icily and proceeded to quote Cora's Mistress with hatred in every uttered word, "For we, who have renounced our faith and belief of the God of Darkness, DECEM; we, who are, as she calls it, blasphemous... we will, for eternity, be UNFORGIVEN in the eyes of the Elders and all of Cora."

==O==

Lightning flashed brightly across the sky as if in agreement to the condemning utterances of the Elder Quiane Kahn. The low clouds that were but cruising silently and inconspicuously across the evening sky had convened to shelter the moons from the Corites' eyes and bring about a uncommon darkness in Luce. Soon, rain precipitated from the clouds and came pelting heavily with enough force to cut through the skin and brought a strong gust of howling wind along with it. The rain created a din that drowned out all noises, even the sound of one's own heartbeat.

In silence, the two of them stood unmoving as though they did not notice the heavy water dropping on their heads and the wetness it brought, nor the chill that was driven by the wind into the core of their bones deep beneath their pale skins.

Viene was still gazing at the symbol, wondrous and at the same time feeling a twinge of repulsion. As the water came to wet it, it flared a flaming red, like that of glowing hot lava. No doubt. It was indeed scorched by magic, a character to mark the damned. And maybe, also to mark the---

"Accursed…," Viene whispered softly.

Accursed. To call upon a curse on them. Viene gritted her teeth in a feeble attempt to suppress the anger that flared from the depths of her bleak soul. It enraged her to think that the Elders would have the audacity to brand them infidels more so to curse them with---as it may be the only logical thing---eternal damnation or anything with the likes of it when, all this time, it was _they, _the Elders, who had done such a great wrong on them.

"Why did you let them do this to you?" she inquired with barely controlled ire and a tinge of bewilderment.

Acting like though he had not heard, Northenio snatched his shirt, robe and armor from the wet floor. He put on his shirt, not bothering to button his shirt up. Lugging his heavy armor with one hand, he started to walk ahead into the sheet of rain, his footsteps, almost inaudible due to the din the rain was making, fading away quickly.

Staring at the spot where Northenio had stood, Viene did not move for a moment. She felt confused, bewildered, and angry. Along with these, anxiety crept inconspicuously into her heart. The symbol. Northenio's unresponsiveness. It did not sit well with her. A hint of doom seemed to surround these elements.

Sighing, she walked towards the direction were Northenio had gone. Her sight sought for any indication that Northenio was just up ahead; his ebony hair that would now be lank and wet due to the rain, his robe that would be billowing courageously but not fully against the wind, or his glistening metal and leather armor. Not even the shadow of them could be seen. There was only the endless sheet of rain and the familiar darkness.

She had lost track of Northenio but it was of no consequence to her. Northenio… To doubt Northenio. Perhaps it would be best not to think of such thoughts. What good would it bring to harbor any suspicion to the only person she could rely on. Trusting Northenio would be the right thing to do. It was the wise thing to do. It was the loyal thing to do. With that she tried to clear her thoughts and blankly trudged along, allowing memory and the steeply ascending stone pathways to guide her feet to her destination.

Soon, several distant specks of dimly pale yellowish light blurred heavily by the rain came into view. Camino, their guild castle, must be near. Despite herself, Viene felt a sense of peace come over her and the despair she was feeling was finally and completely washed away by the unrelenting outpour of the rain.


	2. Camino

**A/N: Standard disclaimer applies. **

* * *

Lightning flashed brightly across the sky as if in agreement to the condemning utterances of the Elder Quiane Kahn. The low clouds that were but cruising silently and inconspicuously across the evening sky had convened to shelter the moons from the Corites' eyes and bring about a uncommon darkness in Luce. Soon, rain precipitated from the clouds and came pelting heavily with enough force to cut through the skin and brought a strong gust of howling wind along with it. The rain created a din that drowned out all noises, even the sound of one's own heartbeat.

In silence, the two of them stood unmoving as though they did not notice the heavy water dropping on their heads and the wetness it brought, nor the chill that was driven by the wind into the core of their bones deep beneath their pale skins.

Viene was still gazing at the symbol, wondrous and at the same time feeling a twinge of repulsion. As the water came to wet it, it flared a flaming red, like that of glowing hot lava. No doubt. It was indeed scorched by magic, a character to mark the damned. And maybe, also to mark the---

"Accursed…," Viene whispered softly.

Accursed. To call upon a curse on them. Viene gritted her teeth in a feeble attempt to suppress the anger that flared from the depths of her bleak soul. It enraged her to think that the Elders would have the audacity to brand them infidels more so to curse them with---as it may be the only logical thing---eternal damnation or anything with the likes of it when, all this time, it was they, the Elders, who had done such a great wrong to them.

"Why did you let them do this to you?" she inquired with barely controlled ire and a tinge of bewilderment.

Acting like though he had not heard, Northenio snatched his shirt, robe and armor from the wet floor. He put on his shirt, not bothering to button his shirt up. Lugging his heavy armor with one hand, he started to walk ahead into the sheet of rain, his footsteps, almost inaudible due to the din the rain was making, fading away quickly.

Staring at the spot where Northenio had stood, Viene did not move for a moment. She felt confused, bewildered, and angry. Along with these, anxiety crept inconspicuously into her heart. The symbol. Northenio's unresponsiveness. It did not sit well with her. A hint of doom seemed to surround these elements.

Sighing, she walked towards the direction were Northenio had gone. Her sight sought for any indication that Northenio was just up ahead; his ebony hair that would now be lank and wet due to the rain, his robe that would be billowing courageously but not fully against the wind, or his glistening metal and leather armor. Not even the shadow of them could be seen. There was only the endless sheet of rain and the familiar darkness.

She had lost track of Northenio but it was of no consequence to her. Northenio… To doubt Northenio. Perhaps it would be best not to think of such thoughts. What good would it bring to harbor any suspicion to the only person she could rely on. Trusting Northenio would be the right thing to do. It was the wise thing to do. It was the loyal thing to do. With that she tried to clear her thoughts and blankly trudged along, allowing memory and the steeply ascending stone pathways to guide her feet to her destination.

Soon, several distant specks of dimly pale yellowish light blurred heavily by the rain came into view. Camino, their guild castle, must be near. Despite herself, Viene felt a sense of peace come over her and the despair she was feeling was finally and completely washed away by the unrelenting outpour of the rain.

…

* * *

**UNFORGIVEN**

_Camino, The Fire's Abode_

The heavy downfall created a monotonous and dreary din as the raindrops dropped on the steep sloping roofs of Camino and the ornate floors of uncovered passageways. Along with that, the distant roar of the rapids and the waterfall combined with the rain's cry to add more to the noise which, for its monotony, somehow made things appear quiet.

Deyjavu stared into the darkness, in the direction of the waterfalls, as he casually leaned against the elaborate pillars of an archway. The archway, intricately designed with what could only be by the hands of a master craftsman, was one of Camino's numerous--and mostly unknown---entrances situated as an entry to the guild castle; this one, from the floor of Luce's highly situated roof. At the very top of the archway or even beyond that, a narrow eave, inconspicuously seen from below, jutted in an attempt to protect the archway from the rain.

Luce's roof, situated far above from even the highest grounds of the city, was broad and spanned quite a significant distance but mostly situated only atop the Citadel. The Citadel housed the rarely seen Elders and the high council and was rumored to be an inner city, a metropolis of its own in infrastructure, economy, and in other ways. Indeed it could have been an inner city what with it occupying a large area of the city, Luce. No one really knows the truth about the Citadel. Perhaps, not even the council… just the ancients. Also, the Citadel's mysterious and power-emanating double doors had never been seen open by most, not even when the Elders or the Council appeared to fight along with the Corite army. It stayed silently closed, unperturbed and unmoved for centuries as far as the Corites remember.

A sigh of boredom cut through the tedious noise of the rain, pulling Deyjavu from his thoughts. Slowly, he turned towards the source of the sound and, as he had been smoking a cheroot, took a final puff before flipping the small stub out in the rain.

"Why did we agree to look after the guild house again?" Ashienne, fondly called Sin, asked dully, a look of irritation creeping into her features. She was sitting comfortably in a cozy chintz chair facing the archway where Deyjavu was.

"DO we have to go through with this again?" Deyjavu replied, half-exasperated and half-amused.

"Bear with it, Deyjavu. It's the only topic she knows of wherein she can talk endlessly," Jaelis replied, a masked smile lurking on his lips. Reading an old book on magic, he too was sitting on another chintz chair situated somewhat near Sin.

"We weren't supposed to be stuck here," she murmured angrily.

"We were," Deyjavu replied. "I volunteered the three of us."

"What?!" Outraged, Sin stood up and marched towards where Deyjavu stood. "Why did you that?!"

"Because I wanted to," he replied, turning his gaze to the dark rain again.

"I hate you," she said in a low tone which elicited a soft laugh from Jaelis. With that, she returned to her seat and tried to preoccupy herself by looking at the peculiar flowers in the vase atop the table.

Deyjavu smiled. It was characteristic of Ashienne these sudden mood swings and unpredictable actions. That was made her endearing to most of the guild members.

Redirecting his gaze, he sought the faint almost indiscernible outlines of the chess pieces Jaelis and Sin had been moving earlier before the sky decided to cry and bath them with the heavy Novus rain.

"Deyjavu…," a soft feminine voice said in almost a whisper.

Startled, Deyjavu pushed his shoulders off the pillar, straightened himself, and turned to see the speaker. A raven-haired beautiful Corite stood gazing at him. Donning a lavender peignoir-like gown that flattered her figure in the most fascinating ways, she exuded a fragile, seductive and at the same time elegant air about her which complimented her fair and gentle face. She was marked a rare beauty even by elfish standard. She was considered the Mistress of the Guild. Alleza was her name.

"I'm worried…," she said. "Northenio has been gone for three days. He had promised he will be back soon and three days isn't soon."

"It certainly isn't," Sin cut through without warning, a hint of sarcasm lining her statement.

Jaelis threw a warning look at her. In response, Sin heaved a sigh.

"I was just…," Alleza said, flustered. "I mean... even Viene hasn't come back and she meant to find him."

"Don't worry," Jaelis said. "They'll come back without harm."

"You're forgetting that the two of them are one of our elites." Deyjavu added.

Alleza smiled. "I guess you're right."


	3. In One's Eyes

**A/N: Standard disclaimer applies. **

* * *

Lightning cut across and thunder bellowed from the sky. A series of loud yet distant knocks then followed the heaven's tantrum. The four of them stared at each other, quite startled by it.

The knocks stopped. Then came the sound of heavy oak doors being opened.

"They're here," Jaelis muttered.

Hastily, Alleza dashed down the great spiral staircase, excitement fueling her every step. The other three followed suit but in a less speedy pace. When they arrived at the bottom step, Alleza stopped.

Aoi had opened the doors for him. With the darkness and the rain behind him, Northenio stood at the door, dripping wet. His white cotton shirt stuck to his lean body like second skin, flattering his musculature. His hair was lank due to the rain and stuck wetly to his face. His head was bowed and his intense eyes were dull. A scary aura seemed to emanate from him. Quickly, Aoi snatched the robe and upper armor from Northenio's grip. Northenio did not protest nor hold on to his armors.

"Welcome home, Northenio," Alleza said joyously, almost tearful, as she rushed into his arms.

Without reservations, she buried her fingers into his wet hair and kissed him with enough ardor to ignite a flame. Brazenly, she pressed herself fully against his frame, not minding that he was completely drenched and that she too would get wet. Northenio responded with comparably less enthusiasm but Alleza seemed not to take notice---or if she did, she did not mind. Finally, after some heated moments, they broke off the kiss.

"I'm home," he said softly with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

"Tch… So home is the waiting arms of his lover," Sin grumbled under her breath before disappearing out of the door and into the darkness and chill of the rainy night.

* * *

**UNFORGIVEN**

_In One's Eyes_

Deyjavu stared after her, a thoughtful expression coming over him. The words Ashienne had uttered reached, though barely, his sharp ears and it somehow made him worried but not surprised. If their other guild mates would be the ones to hear such words, they would probably be bewilderedly flabbergasted as to their implications.

Possessively and exuding undeniable fondness, Alleza wrapped her arms around Northenio's arm, her breast pressed against his tanned arm not as a provocation but as a sign that she was indeed his. Northenio accepted the gesture like something that happens not just on a rainy day.

"Northenio…," Jaelis called out softly. "What has become of your trip?"

"There is no need for you to know about it, Jaelis," Northenio, his voice, substantially warm when he was talking with Alleza, turned hard and cold.

Jaelis did not push the matter and bowed his head ever-so slightly to acknowledge Northenio's refusal and, maybe, as an apology as well for his brashness. Regally, Northenio inclined his head as to soften the blow of his words and to accept the unspoken apology---delayed it might be.

Without turning to the person he was addressing to, he said, "Aoi, we shall talk later. Fetch Craft as well."

In all the times that he had spoken and not, Northenio projected the emanating aura and air of a master--one who commanded and was obeyed, one who led and was followed. And that he was. Though he did not put such claim over his comrades—he refused to be appointed guild master---his power over them was undeniable.

"I will retire for now," Northenio said rather wearily to the group. "Come Alleza, keep me company."

"I shall, my lord," Alleza replied, a gently adoring smile lighting up her face. "It would be my utmost pleasure."

Their arms intertwined, the two of them ascended the stairs. With the dim lights of the foyer accentuating their profile, the couple looked strikingly beautiful beside each other. The others could not help but be drawn to their exquisiteness, their eyes following the couple.

"Northenio," Deyjavu called out. "Ashienne…"

Northenio stopped on a step. So did Alleza. "What about her?" inquired Northenio indifferently, not bothering to face Deyjavu.

"I want to discuss something with you about her," continued Deyjavu.

Silence fell, a thoughtful expression painting Northenio's features. At last, after several minutes, he spoke. "Whenever I feel like it, we will."  
With that said, he and Alleza continued up the wooden stairs.

Walls of black marble lined the narrow passage. Glass windows, now painted the arrestingly harsh hues of the storming heavens, punctured the walls on every landing of the endless flight of stairs. Sparsely-decorating, abstract paintings of violent colors expressing emotion on its extreme greeted the couple in their ascent. Alleza glanced idly at them with a blase expression.

_Distasteful paintings_, she thought innocuously as she stared at a particular painting depicting a demon.

Northenio stopped in his tracks. Puzzled, Alleza stared questioningly at him but he did not bother to return her gaze. Her lover's eyes were locked somewhere, the intensity in its green jade depths softening. She followed the direction of his gaze and she felt a sharp momentary tug in her heart as she recognized who it was.

...


	4. An Omen, Unrest

**A/N**: Standard Disclaimer applies.

..

* * *

..

A Corite, with skin so pale to the point of translucence, stood statue-like in the middle of the stairs. Blank and dull, her amethyst eyes stared past them and through the rain-streaked window offsetting the couple. A curtain of blue-streaked ebony hair framed her expressionless face. She was clad in a mellow-colored dress that covered every inch of her body, crisscrossing in odd places and adorning jewels to contest the monotony.

"Rakisha…," Alleza heard Northenio whisper, an odd and uncharacteristic gentleness in his voice.

Rakisha did not respond. She acted as if she had not heard. She did not even flinch.

"How've you been, little one?" Northenio asked.

She kept her silence. Minutes passed and the rain fell harder, still she would not honor them with a response. Northenio, however, seemed expectant of an answer. Or rather, half-expecting.

"Northenio…," Alleza cut in. "Don't bother. She won't answer---."

"Silence," he cut in firmly. Stunned and feeling like though he slapped her, Alleza stared at him with a hurt and confused expression.

A low rumbling laughter filled the air. "Northenio… Northenio," came a half-amused, half-reprimanding voice. "You shouldn't be talking to your lover like that."

Atop the stairs somewhere behind Rakisha, the butt of a lighted cigar floated in the eerie darkness. It marked the presence of a man; assumingly, held by the one who addressed Northenio. Lazily, the man's silhouette walked towards them in order for the crystalline chandelier dangling above to define his features. Roguishly in attire and stance, he greeted Northenio smilingly.

"Why was Rakisha without a companion?" inquired Northenio, a hint of anger lining his voice.

"I was with her all the while," Craft replied straight-faced, unflinching at the edge in Northenio's words. He was one of the few people who did not cower in Northenio's presence.

"Like hell you were."

Craft laughed. "Ok, I wasn't. Do I get a beating for this?" he inquired jokingly.

"If it was anyone else, he wouldn't be able to tell day from night within a sennight after I was done with him," the green jade-eyed Templar replied fiercely.

Craft chuckled heartily at the statement. "Glad I am not _anybody else._"

"Count it as a blessing."

"I will," he replied, winking at Northenio, as he took hold of Rakisha's arm and gently tugged her, commanding the silent lady to follow him. "Come. We shall return to the drawing room."

For a moment, Rakisha refused to be moved. Ever so slightly, she parted her lips as if she was about to speak. Surprised, the three of them stared at her in anticipation. But minutes passed by and she spoke nothing.

"Rakisha?" Northenio implored.

"Welcome home…," she finally spoke in a soft raspy voice.

Predictably, they were astounded. Ever since they had come to stay at the Camino and before that for that matter, Rakisha had refused or had lost the ability to speak and was usually unresponsive to things happening around her.

"Thank you," answered Northenio, his face masked with an indiscernible expression.

Silence consumed them and they were thoughtful. Suddenly, a loud gasp broke through the still air. A loud thud and a fearful shout followed.

Alleza had collapsed.

…

* * *

**UNFORGIVEN**

_  
An Omen, Unrest_

_Ding…_

The rain outside was in its strongest outpour yet. Eerie howls, louder than a nearby Assassin Builder's cry, penetrated the thick marble and concrete walls of Camino as the hurricane came blowing past.

_Ding._

A scramble of feet could be heard on the tiled floors of the castle's great arched hallways. Some of the footsteps were hurried like when one is catching the Cartellan Ship for Ether. Some were unhurried, almost lazy, as though they were really uninterested in reaching their destination.

A sigh. A chuckle. Clanks of metal and steel.

_Ding._

"What business is it?"

"I do not know, my friend."

"Is there an upcoming battle?"

"Perhaps.."

"I don't think so."

Footsteps. They halt.

"Should we go?"

"I'm not really interested…"

_Ding._

A throaty chuckle. "This is rather.. interesting, don't you think?"

"I can feel it too."

Agitated whispers.

"Why are the ELITE being gathered?"

"Something is wrong."

"Must be."

"Something is definitely wrong."


End file.
